Wings to Fly
by HecateA
Summary: After the war, Harry doesn't have anybody to send his letters. But it's not quite as easy as just getting a new owl. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **School's kicking my ass, enjoy!

**Hogwarts: **Assignment #5, Task 6: Easter - Write a fic featuring a character being protective over their pet.

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **Loss

* * *

_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (Golden Lion)

**List (Prompt): **Fall prompt list (Pet/Plant)

* * *

_**Summer Bingo**_

**Space Address (Prompt): **4D (Owl)

* * *

**Wings to Fly **

Harry kept his hands clasped and tried not to take up too much room in the shop while Ginny rummaged through the shelves to find the specific treats that Arnold liked so much that he'd do tricks for.

"Maybe they don't have them," he suggested.

"They always have them," she said distractedly, shifting some boxes to peak in the back. "The Magical Menagerie has everything…"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and tugged. Ginny looked up and then straightened up, sweeping her hair over a shoulder.

"Hey," she said. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head. The Magical Menagerie was nearly empty—they'd purposefully timed their trip to Diagon Alley for when nobody would be around. Harry was hoping to continue speaking to as few people as possible and being seen as little as possible until Auror training began, when that would no longer be possible.

"Maybe this is the year I finally get Arnold to cooperate when it's time to roll over," Ginny said. She grabbed a box at random. "Let's just get these. They've got blueberries in them, he'll learn to love it."

She slipped his hand in his and he followed her to the front counter.

"Good luck with that," Harry said. "You'll have to keep me updated—send me lots of letters when I'm in school…"

"I will," Ginny said. "I'll just borrow one of the school owls again. What about you?"

"Me?" Harry said.

Ginny didn't press the issue; she just paid quietly for the Pygmy Puff treats and made small talk with the shopkeeper.

Harry looked away because… well, he was wondering how he _would _get those letters to her. Because he planned on writing them; multiple letters of all sorts.

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry said. He looked around the shop, crawling with tanks full of newts and toads, fish bowls, kittens curling into each other… and then there were the owls perched across the store, here and there.

He chewed on his lip and tried to remember the first time he'd walked into a magical pet shop. The first time Hagrid had brought him, really. That day had been so wild, so fantastical, that Harry had trouble remembering specifics…

* * *

At the end of the day he couldn't quite remember how he'd picked Gwenog the owlet, remember. She had been the smallest, scruffiest owl in the store. The shopkeeper had apologetically explained that Northern saw-whet owls didn't grow to be very big, and this one was particularly small.

"A bad egg," the merchant had explained. "We weren't sure she'd hatched at first and then…"

"I was a bad egg once," Harry had answered. "How much?"

* * *

Gwenog was brown and speckled with a creamy oatmeal beige colour. Her beak was a tad crooked, like a broken nose. Her eyes were jet black and ringed with dandelion yellow, her talons uncannily crooked and sharp.

"If he ever meets her, Pigwidgeon could eat her," Ron observed as they sat in the living room of their London flat which, for the time being, only had a couch and a rickety circular table that was meant to be patio furniture.

"She's cute," Hermione said defensively. "I like her. She has… character."

Gwenog was sitting on a pile of books against the wall, observing the lot of them.

"Character won't protect her from getting eaten by squirrels," Ron said.

* * *

For what Gwenog lacked in size, she made up in personality.

"They said that about Napoleon," Ron said. "Then they exiled him. Twice."

She grew on him too.

Gwenog liked to sit near the stove in the morning when they fried up eggs and tomatoes, to stay warm. When she heard keys jostling in the lock she'd perch on the doorknob on the other side of the door and try to spook them by flying off. She burrowed in their sheets. When they made bacon sandwiches, she made a racket until they gave her pieces. She shredded socks for fun. She pulled clothes off of hangers and dragged mugs across the counter in an order only she seemed to understand. She hopped across the chessboard in the living room and knocked the pieces around as if she was trying to play—which was she managed to grow on Ron.

Harry had been entirely sold on her before he even got out of the Magical Menagerie.

* * *

He woke up panting and shot up in bed, grasping for his wand but catching a fistful of his blankets instead. A wave of dizziness hit him since he'd sat up so quickly just as he was fighting to get his breath under control. He nearly missed the sound coming up in the corner—the scratching…

He padded around for his wand and whispered a quick _lumos _under his breath when he found it. When he looked in the corner, he saw the empty box from the lamp he'd just bought, wiggling around…

He got up and crossed the room before lifting up the empty box to reveal Gwenog, looking up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"How?" Harry asked. "How did this even happen?"

* * *

Gwenog was shuffling the pieces of parchment and the papers on the coffee table, which was the closest thing they owned to a desk when they had to study.

"Hey," Harry said. "Hey, Gwennie, come here…"

She squawed at him and he reached out to scratch the top of her head. She nestled against his touch and then hopped across the table and onto his shoulder.

"There you go," he told her. "We're going to learn about poison antidotes and hopefully do it all in one night before work... it'll be wonderful."

"Coffee?" Ron called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Harry said.

A few minutes later he stumbled out with two cups. Gwenog swooped down to knock the spoon he was stirring with out of his cup.

"Come _on," _Ron said. Gwenog swooped down, grabbed the spoon, and flew away to hide it.

"Well," Ron said. "There goes that…"

Gwenog cawed.

"Hey," Harry called. "Hey, come on back…"

Gwenog swooped down again and landed on his shoulder again.

"She's antsy," Ron said.

"What else is new?" Harry said. "She's antsy and mischievous and she has a bad attitude."

"Definitely," Ron said. "But she's antsy. She keeps trying to fly in the flat, you should let her out…"

"She's fine," Harry said.

"She's been out already?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated.

* * *

Harry sat on his mattress (bed frame was yet to be acquired) and looked from his notes to Gwenog, who was hopping across his bedroom floor chasing an enormous dust bunny. He only looked up when someone opened his door. He was expecting to see Ron, who had just gotten in based off of the sound of the door opening. Instead, it was Ginny wrapped in her winter coat and a burgundy scarf.

"Hey!" Harry said. "Hey, I thought the train was coming in on the 21…"

"I lied," Ginny smiled. She had shrugged off her coat by the time Harry had gotten up to gather her in his arms.

"I'm okay with it," Harry said, kissing her.

Gwenog hopped across the floor and jumped onto Ginny's boot, eating the laces.

"And it's so nice to see you again," Ginny said, reaching down to stroke the little bird's feathers. She looked up at Harry. "The Ministry owls have been the ones delivering all my letters…"

"They're usually pretty reliable," Harry said.

"What's wrong with Gwenog?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing, except her attitude—which I'm sure Ron told you all about," Harry said. He scooped up the little bird and then put an arm on the small of Ginny's back. "Now come on. You've got to tell me all about Hogwarts…"

* * *

They sat on the mattress with their backs to the wall, eating bags of candy that Ginny had gotten off the trolley lady, and watching his favourite Snitch fly around the room. Gwenog chased it, occasionally catching it and releasing it to keep her game going.

"She must be such a great hunter," Ginny said.

"She's great," Harry said. "Yesterday she hid my wand and she found the best hiding spot yet—she somehow got it in the drawer where we keep the kitchen utensils, took me forever to find it…"

It was a funny story, but Ginny didn't laugh. She took his hand.

"You didn't answer the question about the hunting," Ginny said. "Or about the letters…"

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"I let her out," Harry said. "I do, I promise, I'm taking care of her, I really am. I remember how much Hedwig hated being cooped…"

He took a deep, shaky breath.

"Hedwig," Ginny said. Her thumb rubbed circles against his palm and the dark polish on his nails caught his eye. "This is about Hedwig."

Harry chewed his lip, watching Gwenog perch on a pile of books, her yellow eyes following the Snitch around the room.

"Hey Gwennie," Ginny said. "Gwennie…"

The owl turned her head sharply towards them. She tilted her head to the side and then flew over, landing on Harry's ankle.

"She's happy and healthy," Ginny said.

Harry nodded. "She's… she's so good."

"Hedwig was so good," Ginny said.

"She was," Harry said. "She was my first friend. She was with me for as long as she could. She… she was with me when she died."

"Harry…" Ginny said cautiously.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, I know it's… it's just one more thing. One more thing that everyone doesn't call my fault but that feels like it, one more thing that didn't have to happen…"

Ginny took his hand and squeezed.

"You went through all of that and you did all the things you did to make sure that if someone lets their owl out they won't get shot down in the middle of the night," Ginny said. "Among so many other things to make the world right again. And Gwenog has wings to fly."

He reached out for Gwenog and she hopped down his leg and onto his forearm.

"Hey," he said. He let go of Ginny's hand and stroked the soft feathers on the owl's chest with the back of his fingers. She caught them in her beak and chewed.

"_Hey," _he said. Gwenog let go and fluttered away, after the Snitch again. She caught it again in no time.

"You're right," Harry said. "She'd be a good hunter."

* * *

Naturally, after her first hunt, she brought back the most disgusting mouse carcass Harry had ever seen and left it right on his pillow.

"Right," Harry said. "Of course you…"

The owl promptly began grooming herself, paying no attention to him. Harry didn't mind; he'd been up all night waiting for her, to make sure that she didn't find a shut window she needed to come back early or got in some kind of trouble or got scared… But no, the owl had come and gone. His heart had launched itself into his throat when he'd seen her appear on the horizon, a little brown fleck that had gotten closer and closer until she'd dove into the room.

Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his back.

"Do you want to hear me say you were right?" Harry asked.

"No, I want to hear you say that you're feeling better about this," Ginny said. "About Gwenog, about the world…"

"Yeah," Harry said, resting his hands on hers. He watched his owl, his happy and healthy and sassy owl, burrow under his sheets.

"Can we go to sleep now?" Ginny asked.

"We have a mouse carcass to address first but yeah," Harry said. "Sleep."


End file.
